Shadow of the day
by seeking-out-sunshine
Summary: Broken things are better left alone―a tribute to nico, nonlinear.


this is meant to be read in the order its posted.

* * *

><p>Shadow of the day<p>

wriiten by: seeking-out-sunshine

.

.

.

.

.

.

(299)

The thing about going through hell is that you only understand what you've been through after you're out.

The fire follows you into your life. It haunts you in your dreams. It holds you when you are alone. It taunts you when you have company. It whispers when you smile. It laughs when you sob. It follows you everywhere and every heartbeat is a reminder for when your heart won't beat anymore and how a god's wrath can toss you right back to Tartarus. You always feel it calling your name and it makes you want to shrink into yourself.

Nico inhales, exhales, inhales, exhales then repeats the action a million times over.

(It doesn't feel like breathing anymore.)

.

.

.

.

.

.

(301)

"He used to smile."

Frank looked at Hazel in surprise. The two of them were sitting on deck of the Argo II, looking at the stars and not thinking about how Percy and Annabeth weren't under them.

"Who are…you…?" He followed her gaze towards the crow's nest. "Oh."

"He used to smile, and laugh, and make jokes about the father's palace and step-mother's garden …" Hazel rested her head on Frank's shoulder and not for the first time Frank doesn't know how to make her feel better.

Frank felt the urge to go up to the little cage Nico made for himself and make him be the boy he once used to be. He wants to pull the younger boy down and force him to crack dark and humorless jokes. He wants Nico to get down and drag Hazel away from him to whisper something about the underworld to her. He wants Nico to give him firm glares before muttering something to his sister then, handing the said girl back to Frank. The son of Mars wants to be a little scared of Nico and be little curious about the conversations the two siblings hold. Frank wants to make Nico happy, so Hazel can be happy too.

Hazel tucked her face into Frank's shoulder and he can do nothing but hold her hand.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(594)

In the end, Nico leaves.

Gaea is lulled back to sleep. All the giants have been killed. The world is saved. The battle between the camps has been stopped. Athena Parthenos stands tall and proud on camp border. All demigods, Greek or Roman, are alive and safe. All seven live. Everyone involved are alright.

Everyone, even Octavian, sits by the hearth as the children of Apollo lead the sing along. Romans don't know the song as well but they sing along too, perhaps a bit off key but nobody complains. There is laughter. There are friends. There is family. There is comfort. There is warmth. There is the feeling of home in the air.

Nico takes one last glance before leaves.

Home is just another four letters to brush his toes and he is a nomad with endless freedom but no place to belong. He is a boy out of time. He is a boy with no bonds. He is a child of death and his chance to live a life like those near the flames, has been washed away in Lethe.

And he accepts it.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(1)

_"Ti voglio molte bene, Nico."_

_"Sei tutto per me, mia bambino bellissimo."_

.

.

.

.

.

.

(214)

"My, what do we have here?"

"Good afternoon, Lady Persephone."

Nico quickly bows his head down as greeting to Persephone and does not look up to meet her eyes. The queen deserves no less and the queen would not have any less from him, he would not deny the goddess of spring the respect her presence demands. Nico is not rude or disrespectful; he is proud but just the right amount, so he can lean down and bow.

Nico can't help but think how a certain son of Poseidon would not do so. He would stand tall and ultimately that would bring him more trouble than it was worth. Percy. _Percy._

"Good afternoon." Persephone smiles back, waving her hand as if in dismissal. Her smile is not warm, loving or out of politeness either. Habit, she smiles out of habit that she has grown over millennia's. Nico sits down on the ground cross-legged near his hole and fiddles with the offering. He has been planning to summon someone who can help him find Percy.

Persephone ignores him. Nico doesn't quite mind. He knows how small he is. How painfully insignificant he is. He is just another demigod fragile and mortal. One little wound will take him out whereas the gods will live on. The gods will easily replace him for they have lost children a gazillion times over already and knows better to waste time in mourning. Perhaps that is why Nico does not hold a grudge when the gods ignore him.

"Oh, …what was your name again?"

"It's Nico, Nico Di Angelo."

"Ah-huh! I'm sorry for forgetting, child. I've never been too good with names."

"It's no problem, milady."

It's a bit surprising that the goddess of spring would ask but it's even more surprising that she would even try to remember his name. Persephone has never conversed with Nico before, choosing to not acknowledge his existence most of the time. He understands why. After all, Persephone was one of the few gods and goddesses who truly loved their spouses and Nico… well; Nico was another reminder of Hades's infidelity.

"I don't hate you, you know." Persephone mutters as if reading his thoughts. Nico looks up at the goddess in surprise. "I don't like your mother…at all." She scrunches up her nose as if she caught the scent of something disgusting. "But I have nothing against you."

"You don't…?"

The queen lips twitch into a bittersweet smile, "I tend not to look at you. It reminds of what I can't have with your father. But I like you…to an extent." Her words stir up something deep inside him and Nico doesn't understand he should say. Thank her? Apologize? What should he do? Before he can decide Persephone walks back towards the castle.

"Nico, dear," She doesn't look at him, "Do take some pomegranate seeds with you before you leave."

.

.

.

.

.

.

(187)

Shadow traveling is one of the few perks of being a child of the underworld.

Nico pulls up his powers and forces their presence to run straight into his shadow and he flies their souls through the darkness. It's a moment of quiet doubt if he's done it right, and then their bodies follow them in the dark path. It's all about the exhilaration and rush of adrenalin in his body that keep him navigating to their destination. It feels like freedom somehow.

Then they are back on earth and beside him Thalia grins before collapsing to the ground. "Well… well, this was so much better than the last time, am I right ladies?" She throws a look at her fellow huntresses who all look like they are about to be sick. Weather it was the ride or his presence he is yet to figure out.

Nico smirks at them. One of his one-sided smirks he's practiced in front of the mirror time and time again just to use it in front of these immortal girls. It annoys them. Him, doing them favors, annoys them too. Maybe that's why he keeps doing whatever Thalia asks, even if it takes a toll on him. Yeah, he still hasn't forgiven them.

Hey, holding a grudge is his fatal flaw. That's why he is taking out his anger by silly little pranks, see?

That is totally acceptable! And if it isn't, no one has to know.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(113)

Rachel and Nico get along well.

He just sits with her in her cave and waits. He lets her draw until her picture is finished and doesn't interrupt. Rachel thinks he is kind and understanding. Not many wait patiently for hours, not many understand that the painting is lost with her muse. He values her art or maybe he can see how Delphy steals a piece of Rachel every time she takes her body and takes pity. Maybe because he knows her secrets, like she knows many of his. Maybe unlike others he understands the value of her sacrifice and maybe he appreciates her selflessness. Or maybe, he is all alone and she is alone too and they just want each other's presence.

"You want a prophecy."

"Yes."

"Do you have Chiron's permission…?" the way he stiffens up tells Rachel he doesn't. But she knows in her guts that he will leave with or without. Permission. Prophecy. Reason. Even a Goodbye. He is a nomad in his bones and nobody can tie him down.

At least, not yet.

Rachel sighs. "Fine."

.

.

.

.

.

(74)

Nico think of him before he sleeps.

Nico thinks of him after he wakes.

Nico thinks of him with every inhale.

Nico wishes death on him with every exhale.

Nico hates him, Nico hates Percy Jackson.

Nico hates himself―for trusting him, for not being strong enough, for letting Bianca go and not stopping her, for not taking better care of her, for obsessing with this stupid, stupid game, for not telling Bianca he loved her, for not spending more times with her, for breathing―more.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(96)

He is dangerous.

All demigods are. But this boy is more so than anyone else. Hades knows this best, for this boy is what's left of his feelings for a mortal woman with death looming above her.

Hades thinks of Maria sometimes. He thinks of the human woman so beautiful that even death that loomed over her couldn't help but freeze. Hades loves Persephone, even after this so many hundred years, he is not tired of loving the spring goddess. Hades loves Persephone very much but Hades loved Maria in a different way then he loves his wife.

(But then again, he loved every one of his women in different ways.)

Nico is more like a boy then a man, more like a child then a hero, more dangerous than any of his other children and not ready to take on a fate so grim. Bianca would have been a better choice to shoulder this weight. But Hades settles for Nico. Nico will do.

Nobody knows how dangerous this boy is, better than the silent one himself.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(181)

(_Prince, prince, prince,)_

They mutter when he passes through asphodel. He is not lost here and his eyes are set towards his goal. Jaws squared, shoulder stiff and a grip on the hilt of his sword, he is beautiful.

They never cross his path, even the dead know he will close his eyes and show no mercy here. He is (_Prince, prince, prince_) only here to take back the soul that does not belong. He only comes here to restore balance. The king does not care for it. He does. _He does._

He stands before the lucky one, the one with the glow of Elysium and smiles. He is (_Prince, prince, prince_) disappointed for he has not found the one he hoped to but he is (_Prince, prince, prince_) firm.

He offers the soul his hand and he offers the soul a second chance. He takes her back to the world where she belongs and the monsters scream.

But he is (_prince, prince, prince_) Nico and he is not afraid.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(14)

Most think the dead are sad.

They're right, of course. But the dead are also kind. They are experienced and they know how it ends and how a sudden stroke of wisdom hits you just before your heart stops. They often wish to share that wisdom, but they are dead and they cannot. But Nico is the exception. He is the ghost king. He is free to speak to all spirits and to learn from them.

Nico learns battle from great warriors who have long since forgotten by history. He learns combat from the bravest of gladiators. He learns to use his powers from his half-siblings who have passed away decades ago. In exchange he tells them lies about how the world still remembers them. He feeds them gibberish about world peace and happiness that doesn't exist. They, somewhere deep in their hearts, know he is lying but they want to believe him so they do.

The dead trusts Nico and Nico trusts the dead too.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(222)

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

It was not worth the pain but at the same time, worth it, somehow.

So Nico grits his teeth and fights and looses.

Tartorus laughs. The monsters laugh. The giants laugh.

He surprises everyone then. Nico surprises every monster, every creature and even himself.

Nico laughs at himself too.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(112)

Nico likes to sit on the edge of Styx and stare at the black water swirling.

He shouldn't do something so reckless. If somehow the water were to touch him then he will not be okay. He would burn to ashes in a matter of seconds. He doesn't have his mother's blessings; he would not be able to gain Achilles's blessing or curse, whatever.

But that doesn't stop him from wondering what his cord to this life is.

A lot of things, people, come to mind. He thinks of the girl from cabin eleven, who liked Mythomagic too. He thinks of Travis and Connor Stoll and the way they made even him feel welcome. He thinks of Chiron and the old centaur's way of making sure he fit in. He thinks of Annabeth and the very little time he spent getting know her. He mostly thinks of Percy and his smile, voice, eyes and Percy.

But nothing. He loves them all, he loved them all. He would die for any of them but Nico doesn't think he can live for them. None of them. Not even for Percy.

He has no cord to this life.

But then why is he enduring the pain? Why is he not allowing his soul to escape his stupid, pointless, petite body? Why is he not on Charon's ferry? Why is he not in front of the three judges who hate him so much but have no choice to give him Elysium? Why is he not letting the pain wash away with Lethe? Why he is still hung up on life?

_Why?_

.

.

.

.

.

.

(582)

This boy, this Nico Di Angelo, is something else.

Reyna has never particularly liked the ambassador of Pluto. Whether it was his cold eyes, secretive personality, Argentum and Aurum's unease around him or maybe even the aura of quiet and sad power he radiates, the roman praetor didn't know. But she could never bring herself to trust the boy.

He was courteous to her of course, most of the time. Although he rarely fought, he always brought camp valuable information they needed. He was one of the few who actually stepped outside of camp borders. He kept them up to date with the rest of the world. In the small time he spent there, Nico had become important to camp.

Reyna still never liked him. But in this Greek battleship that bought chaos and destruction to New Rome, she has never been gladder that it was him accompanying him back to long island.

He was thinner, paler, weaker and sadder than ever. But he also seemed to be stronger and more determined. It's almost like he was preparing himself for something big, something life-changing that did not concern Gaia or their up-coming war. It worried Reyna.

She was still glad it was Nico with her and not _Jason._

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(430)

Nico is broken, Jason decides.

Jason looks at his pitch black hair and pale, pale skin and midnight eyes and the proof of exhaustion. He looks at his bony fingers, think wrists and scars on his soul. He sees the pain and jealousy and longing and acceptance.

Nico is broken, Jason decides, Nico is broken beyond repair. Because the one rejecting, hating, _breaking_ Nico is himself and there is no stopping him.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(53)

"You will be attending your classes here." The Lawyer tells them when they get out. "Westover Halls, it's a very prestigious school."

Nico almost says Duh. Anyone could tell that Westover was for only the best. The school looks like a freaking castle. It's all black stone, with towers and slit windows and a big set of wooden double doors and the way it stood on cliff overlooking this huge forest on one side and the gray churning ocean on the other, it looks like it' made for royalty.

Bianca takes his hand and grins down at him, sending him a silent _isn't this place awesome?_ With hope in her eyes.

It's fitting, after all it's a new beginning, for him and her. The two of them will build a home here. They will have friends. They will have enemies. They will have boring as hay classes. They'll have dorm rooms. They'll have roommates. They'll have food. They'll have each other and it'll be fresh start.

Nico grins back.

_ Definitely._

* * *

><p>because nico is sad and he really deserves forty billion hugs and also a really awesome guy to love the sadness out of him.<p>

also this is very rushed because i was hit with motivation and that happens once in a thousand years.


End file.
